


Wrong Number

by HauntingHex



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Crossover Pairings, Friendship, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HauntingHex/pseuds/HauntingHex
Summary: Mihashi texts, "Happy Birthday" to the wrong number and meets Kuramochi.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a long time which is disappointing. Busy with other priorities and now with the Pokemon Sun/Moon hype, I want to get back into RPing. So instead of joining one, a friend and I are making one of our own on jcink.

_Happy birthday, Yuu!!_

Mihashi was concerned. The sterile blue glow of his cellphone screen cast shadows across the lines of his frown underneath the cocoon of his duvet cover. That particular text was sent three days ago without a response. Maybe something terrible happened? Mihashi tucked his legs closer to his abdomen. The transition into autumnal weather brought cooler days with unrelenting, biting rain. The warmth of the heater made it so Mihashi was curled into the duvet more so out of worry than to seek out warmth.

Yuu was probably just busy or at least that is what he convinced himself was the case. It was 9PM, too late to make a phone call. Yuu always took naps if he could get away with it during class so he suspected the same at this hour. It was a habit that lasted throughout high school and was probably hard to shake even during University. Another text message would do, he typed out the following:

_Yuu,  get back to me when you can._

Message sent. Mihashi hummed. He motioned to place his phone on his bedside table when a sudden vibration startled his distracted mind. A garbled wail accompanied rapid flailing limbs that just barely held onto the thin, delicate phone, although if it had dropped the plush mattress would have prevented any damage.

_Yo dude. I think you have the wrong number. I don’t know anyone named Yuu._

Mihashi scanned the number in his contact list. The arrangement was correct. He looked it over thrice in order to be certain of the fact. Yuu in many ways acted as a protective older brother despite being a few months younger than Mihashi respectively. Yuu was a charmer with unparalleled confidence when it came to baseball or for any athletic activity they dabbled in during health and sports day. He was blunt and at times confrontational, however he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. So it must be true? A wrong number, maybe Yuu had acquired a different one for some reason.

Mihashi buried his head into his free palm. The usual flagrant redness that seeped along his nape to his nose and across his cheeks made its unwelcome appearance. It was nobody’s fault, but it was embarrassing.

He considered ignoring the received text, but decided against it. He came to the most probable conclusion because the stranger responded. Mihashi didn’t have to endure mental torment of whether or not he unknowingly offended Yuu’s sensibilities.

_I apologize. Thank you for letting me know._

-

“Ren!”

Mihashi was engulfed by Tajima’s hug. The shorter man felt at home in Mihashi’s apartment. Tajima allowed him some reprieve. He could breathe again when Tajima's arm went slack, back against his sides rather than around the torso of his friend. Tajima proceeded to kick off his shoes and shrug off his light jacket.

“I lost my phone two weeks ago and I didn’t memorize anyone’s number,” said Tajima as he crashed onto the couch. “I got a new phone and a new number because why not?”

Tajima settled deeper into the plush sofa. His hands tucked behind his head and his legs splayed over the arm rest to allow Mihashi to squish into the remaining space on the loveseat. “I totally did not just come here for food, Ren.” The hands that clapped together that gestured not to prayer, but gratefulness was enough to sway Mihashi to step towards the kitchen.

Mihashi placed his phone on the coffee table before leaving and said. “It’s unlocked. And we have leftover curry.”

“You’re the best!! I missed Renren’s cooking. Hanai only cooks healthy stuff. If I have to eat another steamed vegetable I’m going to challenge him at the local batting cage. Most home runs mean they get to pick dinner for a week.”

Tajima grabbed the phone off the table, his own cell was already in the other hand. He entered Mihashi’s number into his phone and stowed the device in his jean’s pocket. In the midst of incorrectly spelling out his own name, the motion of his thumb to hit the backspace arrow was interrupted by a sudden vibration that rattled the device. Although Mihashi cultivated and groomed more confidence in his abilities, his personality remained timid. Loud noises such as Abe’s booming voice that he always failed to reign in, constantly spooked Mihashi during high school. He would squeak and recoil not because he was scared, but Mihashi had been sensitive to sound and the tone people carried. If it were Miashi, he might have almost dropped his phone, Tajima was the opposite and gripped it tighter. However, the sight of the newest text message was enough to threaten Tajima into momentarily loosening his grip. His usually unperturbed persona was certainly rattled by what was clearly a voyeuristic picture of a half-naked man on what he recognized to be a baseball pitch. Okay, the man in question wasn’t exactly in a state of undress. Plenty of guys during training would use the hem of their shirts to wipe away the sweat from their face if a towel wasn’t immediately on hand. Many would just use their sleeves, which wasn’t possible in the man’s current attire of a white tank top. The image certainly did not leave much to the imagination. A compact body, hardened by years of training. The facial features were difficult to identify with half his face covered. The hair was styled longer at the top of the scalp with a closer shave on either side of the head. Something about him screamed, delinquent. The snapshot was not a selfie, someone on the team perhaps had taken a picture without their permission.

_Oh shit. Sorry, about that._

_Please ignore the picture. My friends are clearly dipshits._

“Oh, Renren!” On cue, Mihashi popped out from the hallway. A tray in tow with a cup of herbal tea and a plate of rice and curry. The tilt of Mihashi’s head was enough indication of inquiry without verbal cues.

Tajima waited for his friend to set down the tray before he asked, “Who is this guy?” Tajima didn’t extend his arm towards Mihashi so the honey haired man maneuvered around the coffee table to return to his seat beside Tajima. He leaned closer so their shoulders touched.

“I don’t know!”

Tajima searched the cascade of distraught features. Mihashi rarely lied. It was more like he just omitted the things that bothered him in order for Tajima not to worry about him.

“Oh, it’s that guy – uhm, you said you changed your number right? I texted Happy Birthday to you but you never answered. This must be the person that has your new number.”

He checked the log and sure enough it mirrored his old number. He handed the phone back to Mihashi and stated, “If it had been your boyfriend I would have been disappointed you didn’t tell me about him, but it was just a wrong number.” Tajima shifted the tray closer. He wasn’t much of a nosy person once the other party gave a satisfactory answer.

“Thanks by the way – for the curry and remembering my birthday.”

Tajima never shirked off the ritual they began in high school. A moment of acknowledging his hunger before gulping down mouthfuls was also an excuse to eat quickly to get a second, and if he was lucky a third helping of food. Even amongst the sharp clink of his utensils against the plate, it didn’t mask another brief series of vibrations that originated from Mihashi’s phone.

Mihashi blatantly ignored it. He chose to stuff the phone into a pocket instead.

“You’re not gonna answer it?”

“Later. I will later,” muttered Mihashi. Tajima returned the gesture with a shrug and continued to devour the remainder of his meal.  


	2. Chapter Two

It was late. Tajima left hours before without probing once more about Mihashi’s strange text messages. He was relieved on both fronts. He missed his friends. After high school many of them branched off to different universities, Hanai and Tajima luckily stayed together and were accepted at the university of their choice. Abe went to Tokyo, so did his rival and friend Kanou. It was the bitter truth that they probably wouldn’t be able to play baseball together for a long time. He was one of the few people that chose not to pursue higher education. He wasn’t exactly the brightest individual on the team, but never the less his teachers were disappointed that he instead chose to join the workforce without testing into educational facilities nearby.

A modest life away from his hometown. Mihashi worked early hours in a bakery called Sweet Tooth. He prepped, took inventory, and with his co-workers began the arduously long process of baking a variety of breads and baked goods. Mihashi liked his job and his co-workers were nice, although they treated him delicately. They skirted his anxious behaviours with timid smiles. They never went past the polite cues of small talk. They cracked jokes with each other while he struggled to find some common ground. They weren’t interested in baseball or any sports. Sometimes they went out for a round of drinks. Mihashi felt out of place, being the only sober co-worker while they drank themselves under. They noticed how uncomfortable it made him and stopped inviting him after two outings. Tajima was one of the few people that could understand his strange mannerisms, more so understood his thoughts. Mihashi barely interacted with customers much to his relief. Customer service was not his strong suit.

Mihashi sunk into the mattress. He tucked the covers under his chin and settled into a comfortable spot that rested on his side. A worn, dirty baseball perched on the night table only reminded Mihashi that his apartment complex glaringly lacked any green space. It wasn’t like his parents’s backyard where he could set up a net for target practice. He didn’t want to forget the motion of his pitch even if he wasn’t actively playing the game anymore. On weekends he would perform a number of pitches with the towel drill to remember the stance, although it lacked the grip and weight of a baseball. His phone buzzed. The rattle swallowed by the hardwood of the table. Right. The texts from before. An extended arm reached for the device.

_Congratulations Mihashi! Yuuichirou told me the story. You guys aren’t official yet? We’re rooting for you._

Hanai misunderstood the story. Tajima was an exaggerator when he regaled accounts of events. A misconstrued mismatch of facts that to Tajima made perfect sense, but to level-headed guys like Hanai, they were difficult to grasp. Not that Mihashi could construct a better coherent speech without stumbling over his words. He got better with experience. His rapid fire thoughts couldn’t quite match the rate that he could form sounds with his voice, but he was certainly much better at it if he was compared to his younger self.

_No. It was a wrong number!_

_Wrong number?_

_It’s not like that. We’re not like that. I don’t even know him._

_Gaaaah! I knew it. I shouldn’t have trusted the words that spilled out of this idiot’s mouth. Should have asked you first. Night Mihashi!_

_Don’t be too harsh on him. Good night._

And the texts from earlier. He had avoided them while Tajima was over. A photo of a half-naked man, albeit a very good looking one – god, he was nervous. Just delete the messages and forget about it. Ignorance is bliss. If he ignored them altogether he wouldn’t have to dedicate this much brain power mulling over subtext that didn’t exist. He was still curious. Not really about the salacious photo, but apparently the individual sent a few more messages afterwards.

He assumed the photo was sent by accident. They weren’t romantic interests or even friends after all. The other man must feel incredibly embarrassed, more so than himself. He didn’t owe the other anything, but easing those fears was only right. Mihashi immediately scrolled past the titillating photo.  

_Oh shit. Sorry, about that._

_Please ignore the picture. My friends are clearly dipshits._

A prank dealt by his friends then. It was hours later and unless they held his phone hostage, which clearly didn’t seem to be the case they either sought to embarrass their friend and a reaction from himself. Maybe they interpreted Mihashi’s number as someone else by accident too. Two more texts followed a few minutes after the frantic explanation.

_What did you think of the photo??? Sexy, am I right?  ~(˘▾˘~)_

_That was really not me, IAMNOTAPERVERT._

_No wait. I really am. And I’ve been thinkin’ about you. How about you and I go to the Lotte Marines game this weekend? I have two tickets. \ (•◡•)_

_askdjaslkd. Wekjlq._

_I apologize. My friends have harassed you, they won’t be a problem anymore and –_

_You have a nice day, dude._

The texts mirrored the phone exchanged, probably forcibly between the multiple hands that worked to rectify or ruin this poor guy’s reputation. Mihashi needed to snooze for his early shift, but he managed to type out what he hoped was enough to cheer up the guy.

_It’s okay. I am not bothered by it. You must be very close to your friends, I guess?_

_You are good-looking so I do not think your friends have to worry about you finding a date to the game, which by the way according to my friend Yuu, says the Lotte Marines will probably lose this round. Something about a weak outfield._

_I don’t know if it’s true – uhhhhhh, ignore the last part about them losing. That must be your prefecture’s home team, right? I am sure they will be fine. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be real, we all know Kuramochi would be a pervert. I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, this is being posted unbetad.


	3. Chapter Three

Kuramochi wanted to simultaneously hide and kick Miyuki’s ass. Although he was nicknamed, Cheetah due to his amazing bursts of speed that allowed him to steal bases, getting the run around by the crafty Miyuki only brought frustration. It began at the end of practice. Coach gave a concluding statement before he left the field. Kuramochi's tired muscles needed the comfort of a warm bath, but before that could happen he needed to make sure to complete a few more exercises to wind down. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand – gross. He gripped the hem of his shirt and brought it up to wipe the remainder, an audible whistle reached his ears along with the snapped shutter of a cellphone.

He was too tired to deal with this. The irritation budding with the tension of his clenched jaw. “Idiot, I don’t wanna be wolf whistled by a creep like you. You’ll make Sawamura cry if he finds out you’ve been freely checking me out.” The bite in his tone implied it was nothing more than teasing. Their friendship was founded on pranking each other anyways and Miyuki was so in love with the brat that it made Kuramochi want to vomit at the constant barrage of explicit PDA. Miyuki adjusted the rim of his glasses. The signature smirk sent a mild chill down Kuramochi’s spine.

“But you are lookin’ mighty fine, Kuramochi. We should let your contacts know – like this number that you’ve been recently talking to, no contact name though – are you hiding something from us?”  The waggle of his eyebrows taunted Kuramochi to react, hopefully in worst manner possible.

“Wait is that my phone?”

Miyuki pulled the phone closer to his chest. “Oh, is it?”

“Miyuki, you bastard come back here!”

-

He was back at his apartment. Sharing the rent with Shirasu and Kawakami off campus was a godsend. He couldn’t imagine rooming with Sawamura again when he was attached to the devil incarnate, Miyuki. The bastard would make Sawamura’s room his second home and he wouldn’t risk possibly walking in on something that would scar him for life. Shirasu and Kawakami were responsible people. They didn’t have to argue about benign household chores like dishes left in the sink or piles of laundry being strewn across the floor. It compelled him to be tidier and more on top of his chores during their rotating schedules.

Kawakami wasn’t back yet. Kuramochi supposed he was still studying in the campus library. Shirasu was cooking dinner, which kindly allowed him the time to take a bath. Kuramochi cleaned the grime accumulated by practice, his uniform already thrown into the hamper beside the bathroom door. He stepped into the bath for the sake of relaxing. Getting pruned fingers and toes were a mild inconvenience for the solace it brought.

He shouldn’t be preoccupied with what a complete stranger thought of him. He knew at the very least the person on the other end was a man, they never corrected his utterance of “dude” on the first occasion. What if it was some middle-aged man? Kuramochi slouched lower into the water, his nose just hovering over the surface. When he finally managed to completely wrench his phone back into his possession the onslaught of messages were a mix of his own and that bastard, Miyuki’s, which did not reap a response from the poor stranger. Ahhhh, just focus. Focus. He had a report due on the weekend, a couple readings to finish tonight. There were plenty more important things he needed to take care of.

A knock on the door alerted Kuramochi to sit straighter. The muffled voice of Shirasu explained that dinner was ready.

“I’ll be out soon!”

-

Kawakami had texted that he would arrive late. Shirasu packed a container of rice with fried milkfish. A thermos of hot, spicy soup and a bottle of water were packaged together. Kuramochi helped to clear the table and asked, “Bringing Kawakami his dinner?”

The nod of affirmation as Shirasu pulled down his cap was enough to signal that he was setting out. “Ah, but bring the leftover fried fish next door, Room 32. I don’t think you ever met him. Abe’s a baseball fan so I’m sure you’ll get along.” Shirasu waved then shuffled out the door without another word.

Kuramochi poured the dishwashing liquid onto a yellow coloured sponge. The suds bubbled under the spray of the water. There wasn’t much to clean up since Shirasu tended to wash the pots and pans he used during the cooking process as long as it was no longer needed. The green ceramic plates with a set of mismatched bowls were cleaned and placed on a rack to dry. The table followed by the counter tops were wiped down. He dried his hands on the towel draped over the stove handle.

It was late, but their neighbor must be awake at this hour if Shirasu wasn’t perturbed about sending over food. Kuramochi tucked the glass container under one arm. Abe, was it? Being a baseball fan was always a plus in his books, but he didn’t feel like catering to small talk today. He still needed to look over some readings so dropping by in his pajamas didn’t seem like a lucrative idea if he wasn’t going to prolong the visit. He didn’t bother to lock the door behind him seeing as he expected to just drop off the food.

His knuckles tapped against the hardwood. Heavy footsteps grew louder as they neared the door. There was no inquiry instead the lock clicked open. Kuramochi’s first impression of Abe was the image of Jun. Their facial features couldn’t be more different; however, Abe certainly did project a rather grumpy neutral face. He wasn’t quite frowning, the curve of his lips still pressed together in a line. Downcast eyes implied annoyance rather than sadness or that was what Kuramochi believed to be the case.

“Hey, Shirasu said this was for you. Fried milkfish. I’m Kuramochi, Shirasu’s roommate.”

Abe visibly relaxed, his hands extended to receive the container. The steady cadence of his voice said, “Thanks. Nice meeting you and goodnight.”

Kuramochi nodded and waved, “Night,” he was grateful that Abe wasn’t inclined to talk. Back to his apartment he locked the door and made his way to his room to study. He had a long night ahead of him. Just glancing at his notes on his laptop, the warm tone of the screen didn’t strain his eyes, but the material was so dry. A yawn escaped his parted lips. The time on the taskbar read 10:49PM.

His phone vibrated against the desk. He had left his phone to charge after practice. It was definitely full now. The surge of excitement and dread coursed through the pit of his stomach. An excuse to procrastinate.

His anticipation deflated. Texts from Miyuki. His fingers hovered over the delete icon. He wanted to discard them just to spite him. Another round of buzzing immediately followed.

_Did anything happen?_

_You should really thank me. I might have brought two hearts together. /sheds tear_

_But no really, if ya want those Lotte Marines tickets you can have’em. All you gotta do is ask, nicely. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧_

His fingers typed out a curt response. _Oh my god, fuck off._

Another stream of text messages made their presence known. He was willing to ignore them when until the number he dubbed, the Strange Guy appeared on the small screen.

_It’s okay. I am not bothered by it. You must be very close to your friends, I guess?_

_You are good-looking so I do not think your friends have to worry about you finding a date to the game, which by the way according to my friend Yuu, says the Lotte Marines will probably lose this round. Something about a weak outfield._

_I don’t know if it’s true – uhhhhhh, ignore the last part about them losing. That must be your prefecture’s home team, right? I am sure they will be fine. (_ _ﾉ◕ヮ◕_ _)_ _ﾉ_ _*:_ _･ﾟ_ _✧_

Normally, Kuramochi would not let any badmouthing slide when it concerned his home team. It was difficult to discern tone of voice in message form without the aid of emoticons, but the deadpan delivery related to his appearance was enough flattery to fuel his emotions into overdrive. He wanted to scream – he was always like this. Any compliments, the shred of kindness that could be interpreted as flirtatious interest drove him up the wall. He recalled the first meeting with Wakana, Sawamura’s friend and how quickly his infatuation grew just because she sent a heartwarming smile his way. Kuramochi, focus! This stranger could be some old guy that uses the mannerisms and emojis of a younger person. Or it was just some young man that wasn’t lying and truly believed he was attractive. He could take his chances… if it became a disaster, blocking and deleting the number would give him some peace of mind. And if Miyuki pressed further into the matter he would just lie about the whole ordeal.

But where to start? Respond with thanks? Maybe just talk about baseball?

_The Lotte Marines will win. It’s true their outfield could be better but that’s only if the Saitama Seibu Lions can pull it that far._

_And uh, thanks man. I work hard to stay in shape so I’m glad someone thinks so. I’m Kuramochi, Youichi and you are?_

He placed his phone back on the table. The screen facing the hardwood. He was curious, but obviously he wanted the other person to be comfortable. Springing too many questions might freak him out to which his mind gave a reasonable counter. The individual wasn’t disturbed in the slightest by Miyuki’s raunchy comments earlier –

Nope. Don’t even go there. Finish work. He stretched his arms over his head, another yawn expressed his weariness. Checking his messages in the morning seemed like a better idea, otherwise he wouldn't get any sleep. He just hoped he didn't get any weird dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Pokemon RP site is almost done. So close, yet so far!! Also, I don't know jack about Japan's baseball teams so I'm making shit up.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live!! I apologize about not updating this sooner. I'm not even sure if people were still interested in this fic but I at least want to make updates on a more regular schedule.

An ardent yell was heard through the thin walls of their apartment. The words were articulated and at a volume that made it easy to accidentally eavesdrop. “Mihashi!!” The voice was low and charged with frustration.

“How many times have I told you to be careful? Pay attention to your surroundings!”

Kawakami took a misstep on the tiled kitchenette flooring. His grip on the ceramic bowl which held his cereal tightened, however hardly prevented the slosh of milk to spill over the rim.

“I should just go over there right now. Does Tajima know? Stop it. Mihashi stop – okay don’t cry. You know I can’t deal with that.”

Another exasperated, “Take better care of yourself. It makes everyone worry,” abruptly ended the one-sided conversation. Kawakami gathered his wits while he mopped up the milk with a paper towel. Abe was an acquaintance and upon their first introduction an anxious silence settled into the air. Shirasu could maneuver through social interactions without awkward beats and he hated to admit that he relied a too much on Shirasu for a lot of things. The kitchen was clean once more, the soiled paper disposed of in the plastic garbage can under the sink.

Abe’s issues were none of his business despite the loud advertisement minutes before. He was concerned, however engaging on a topic of whatever riled him up did not sound like a good talking point. He didn’t want to embarrass Abe either.

_Hey Kuramochi, are you out of class? Can you check up on Abe? He sounded upset but I’m about to head to work._

-

 _Mihashi, Ren_. The name haunted Kuramochi throughout the three-hour lecture. It wasn’t laughably obvious that he agonized over the possibility of a new text message by the named stranger. This wasn’t middle school where students delightfully scribbled whimsical hearts around their crush’s name in their notebook. The professor droned on and switched to the next slide. The class size was much smaller than the allotted room where Kuramochi had the leisure of being seated alone near the middle row. So, if he happened to doodle Mihashi all over his paper, the only eyes privy to the action were his own. The counter spanned the whole row which made it easy to check his phone without arousing suspicion, although his professor was quite lax with rules if it did not disturb the lecture. A woman seated a few rows ahead multi-tasked typing out her notes and eating a sandwich.

_Woops, you’re too slow my guy. Ended up giving those Lotte Marine tickets to Narumiya just to get him to shut up. If you don’t have plans on Saturday night, the group’s going out for some drinks. Unless you already have plans? ;)_

_No plans. I’ll be there._

From experience, ignoring obvious provocations led to Miyuki changing targets. If Sawamura was there too then Kuramochi was in the clear.

_Bring your “friend”._

  _How about no._

Kawakami’s text lacked context. It didn’t explain why Abe was upset. Kuramochi wondered why Shirasu wasn’t given the task of checking up on their neighbour when Kuramochi literally just met the guy yesterday. If Kawakami was troubled, then it wouldn’t hurt to inquire about the ordeal. If he knocked and Abe didn’t answer Kuramochi decided to leave it be.

_Yeah, will do._

-

“I suggest that you refrain from doing normal activities with your right arm and that includes baseball related exercises. The sling will let your shoulder rest and provide support. You iced the area immediately which prevented a lot of the swelling, but it’s best to be careful. We’ll make a follow up appointment next week,” stated Dr. Ushio. She wrote a doctor’s note as well.

Mihashi’s first call was towards his place of employment. The bakery’s manager was sympathetic and suggested that Mihashi take the week off. Someone else could take over his shifts so he could focus on healing and overall well-being. Mihashi worried about his finances. A week’s worth of missed work meant he would barely scrape by with paying rent and other utilities like internet and his cellphone bill. His voice betrayed him as it wavered when he asked for at least a few shifts later in the week. His manager, a soft-spoken middle-aged man plainly stated that he was a liability. They couldn’t risk Mihashi agitating his injury nor could they match Mihashi’s slow pace if they wanted tasks to be completed in a reasonable amount of time. The man was reasonable and offered Mihashi to take two shifts as a cashier. He wasn’t trained for the position, but he would have the support of another coworker.

He tried calling Yuu only to meet his rambunctious voicemail. He merely asked for Yuu to call him back when he got the chance and opted out of leaving anymore details. Mihashi fretted over whether to notify Abe. He spent the next hour at home making a meal of beef stew then tackled cleaning dishes with one hand, all to avoid making that phone call.

It was difficult. The conversation reminded him of freshman year when they had trouble communicating. Mihashi misinterpreted every word and action, his lack of self-esteem steered any mistakes as his fault even when they were unfortunate coincidences. Abe was too forceful with the way he talked, too impatient when Mihashi stuttered out a complete sentence. Above just being a better pitcher, Mihashi wanted to be reliable and not just for his team. When he graduated high school the prospect of moving out was a decision to cement his independence. For the most part it was successful, albeit depending on his spending habits there were times he was strapped for cash.

It took only two rings before Abe picked up the receiver. There was no use in prolonging the inevitable. Mihashi didn’t bother exchanging pleasantries. He blurted out, “I pulled a muscle in my shoulder so it’s in a sling while doing towel drill pitches.”  

The response from Abe was predictable. If they were face-to-face, he could imagine Abe grabbing his unharmed shoulder and yelling, “Mihashi!!” in his disappointed and frustrated drawl.

“No, not yet. I’ll let him know soon,” he said as he suppressed sniffles. He didn’t want to cry, but it felt nice to know that Abe cared.

“I will. You don’t have to come. It’s a bit of a travel. Yuu and possibly Hanai will probably come over when they find out.”

The aftermath of ending the call was the sensation of relief. He could rely on his friends when he needed them. Mihashi picked up his laptop from the night table. It was a gift from his parents prior to moving out. He opened a blank excel worksheet. If he could budget this month’s expenses properly it would hopefully alleviate some of the stress. Rent was a given. Internet and his cell phone were bundled together from the same provider. He wanted to avoid going with just minimum payments. His lifestyle was rather boring. He never drank, he cooked most of his meals at home, and his hobbies weren’t terribly expensive seeing as he still owned gear that was purchased in his high school days. The only area he surmised was the way to cut spending was to change his grocery lists. Rice and beans were cheap; he could spend the next three weeks chowing down on that. If there were any fruits at a discounted price he'd pick some up.

His mind wandered back to his phone. The fit, young man hadn’t responded to him revealing his name. It was a common boy’s name and it was possible the stranger was disinterested once he confirmed that the person he was conversing with wasn’t a woman. Of course, they could be busy, sometimes Yuu didn’t text back until two days had passed since he was a bit forgetful. He’d try once more. If there was no response, then there wasn’t much else he could do.

But what should he say? Something about baseball? He was unaware of the stats for the Lotte Marines. He parroted the facts of Yuu on occasion, but this wasn’t the time or place for that.

_I pulled a shoulder muscle performing towel drills. I should be okay in a week though._

_Oh, but did you find a date for the Lotte Marines game?_


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one week! I usually write so slow it takes forever. A bit of flirtatious Mihashi and yes, they will finally meet next chapter.

He knocked on Abe’s door, a total of three times. He called out to him in the hallway, “Hey Abe are you in? It’s Kuramochi.” He patiently stood in the corridor for a few minutes. There was an absence of feet shuffling on the hardwood floors or any voices. Either Abe stepped outside for a bit or willfully ignored Kuramochi’s presence. There wasn’t much he could do so he entered his apartment. Kawakami was still at work. Shirasu led an incredibly busy student life with countless hours logged in the computer labs or planning events for the calligraphy club. He somehow managed to juggle practicing martial arts, plus a part-time job in all the chaos. Prioritizing his report last night meant he slept only a handful of hours, but it was finished. There were no scheduled meetings with the baseball team today which allowed Kuramochi some free time. As much as he wanted to slump into a pool of blankets and catch up on some rest, it was his turn to prepare dinner. The contents of the fridge were bleak. The leftover fried milkfish was gone, probably eaten by both of his roommates. All that remained were condiments, milk, plus a strange assortment of sodas. The plain, wheat bran cereal box was the lone palatable meal which sat atop the fridge. Their bright blue plastic bin held two bags worth of dried rice. He even checked the rice cooker to find leftover rice.

They tended to avoid eating on campus due to the marked-up price of already prepared meals. Kuramochi wasn’t exactly keen on grocery shopping without his roommates. Kawakami had an eye for deals. He could swipe the last discounted brand of two-ply toilet paper on the shelf without remorse if some poor sod got there too late. He counted himself lucky that his roommates were both excellent cooks, otherwise Kuramochi would stay within his comfort zone when it came to all things culinary. If it were up to Kuramochi, he’d eat omurice all day and every day.

The nearest grocery store was busy seeing as the hour was around the time most salaried positions clocked out. Kuramochi decided not to buy too much. Hopefully, on the weekend they would restock the fridge again. He grabbed a carton of eggs, some green onions, a mesh bag containing onions, and peas. They had sesame oil and soy sauce at home and he supposed churning out some fried rice would be an easy endeavour. He personally wasn’t a fan of shrimp or carrots so this would have to do.

The telltale vibration of a new text message led him to pause in the middle of the aisle on his way to grab some firm tofu.

_I pulled a shoulder muscle performing towel drills. I should be okay in a week though._

_Oh, but did you find a date for the Lotte Marines game?_

He set the store’s basket down to answer. When Mihashi stated his name, Kuramochi didn’t know where else to lead the conversation. He wasn’t about to ask Sawamura or least of all Miyuki for dating advice. Sawamura on a good day was just oblivious. Telling Miyuki would invite the guy to lord it over his head for weeks.

_That’s unfortunate. Does it hurt much? Will you be okay? Are you on a team? And about that Lotte Marines game, turns out my friend gave the tickets to someone else, which is fine. I wasn’t planning on going with anyone._

Surprisingly, Mihashi answered right away. Kuramochi shuffled into an empty aisle so he wouldn’t take up space for the trolleys.

_No, I’m not on a local team or school for that matter. It’s a hobby that I enjoy._

_I guess it hurts a bit but my arm’s in a sling so if it isn’t agitated, I feel fine. See._

The angle of the selfie was awkward since Mihashi couldn’t lift his arm nestled in the sling. The picture was captured from below so the fringes of honey coloured hair obscured the young man’s forehead. The figure wasn’t quite smiling, lips pressed in a diminutive line. Those eyes said otherwise with a hint of amusement and playfulness when superimposed with the following line of text.

_Although, it wasn’t by your actions that I got to see a picture of you. I think this is only fair if I did the same. Even?_

“Oh my god,” thought Kuramochi. This was it. He was crushing hard. If his face wasn’t red, he could feel the heat around his collar.

_Def even._

_I’m at the grocery store so text you in a bit._

He made a beeline for the tofu, crossed through the frozen foods aisle towards the nearest checkout line.

-

“Ren, what’s up?”

Mihashi tapped his fingers on his desk. “I did something stupid. I pulled a shoulder muscle while exercising. One of my baseballs was on the floor and I stepped on it and fell the wrong way. I didn’t tell Abe the latter part though.”

There was a pause and crackling from Tajima’s end as he exchanged the phone to the other ear. His shoulder kept it in place. “Do you need help with stuff? What about work?”

“Only two shifts this week. I should mostly be okay.”

“Wait a sec –“ “Hanai! Are you still making that soup? Okay, well make extra for Renren.”

“Sorry, you were saying?”

“Thanks Yuu and Hanai too. Do you want to hang out this weekend?” asked Mihashi. “I have stuff from the last time we baked.”

“Bring it to Abe’s. I’m sure he won’t mind if we use his kitchen.”

“Did you ask him?”

“No, but he can’t stay angry at you and your baked goods. We should make it a sleepover. He lives by himself, right? We’ll bring an air mattress.”

There was audible laughter coming from Tajima. “You can be the little spoon! Hanai doesn’t like being one so –”

Hanai’s voice popped into the background. “Mihashi, don’t let him rope you into his strange ideas although it would be nice to be in Tokyo for the weekend.”

A smile graced Mihashi’s lips. “I’ll ask Abe and let you know.” They exchanged goodbyes. Mihashi felt a lot better now that he spoke with his friends. It also helped that Kuramochi responded to his texts. His hands were clammy when he sent the picture of himself. The image didn’t match Kuramochi’s risqué pose and it was difficult to gauge what Kuramochi’s reaction would be. He had to admit the positive reception made Mihashi giddy.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting in my hard drive for weeks. My schedule was hectic because of a new job and other personal reasons. I'm so sorry! I promised Kuramochi and Mihashi would meet in this chapter but my mind wandered elsewhere. As always any grammatical mistakes are my own and this is unbetaed.

A student on the train kindly offered their seat to Mihashi which he graciously accepted. His backpack held his clothes and essentials for the sleepover. He went through the contents twice to confirm that he brought the right necessities. In a canvas bag that he delegated for his bi-weekly excursions to the local grocery store carried small bags of leftover white and whole wheat flour. If they had the time they would make two loaves of bread and muffins.

Abe’s agreement to the impromptu sleepover led them to believe their perpetually onerous catcher missed the crew too. Hanai and Tajima were in charge of bringing an air mattress and a few board games. Abe said he’d cover the cost of food. If they got bored, they could stream movies for the whole evening. Abe politely inquired if Mihashi needed any other ingredients for whatever they were baking. Mihashi weakly protested along with a vocal Hanai. They argued for several minutes in a flurry of rapid fire text messages in succession about who would bring what. Tajima wanted junk food, chips and popcorn for when they did a movie marathon. Hanai delineated the positive impact on a well-balanced diet that emphasized vegetables and fruits, while Mihashi was worried about the fact that the others were essentially paying for his meals.

_Shut up. My place, my rules. I have popcorn and Hanai I am personally offended of the very thought that you briefly believed that Tajima and I had the same eating habits._

_Mihashi if you start blubbering I’ll just buy more food._

\---

He was a bit too early. Mihashi knocked on Abe`s door several times. He leaned against the wall and it seemed that Abe wasn’t home yet. He reexamined his notes listed on his phone. The address was correct, the apartment number as well. It was possible that Abe was at class so he decided against calling if his phone wasn’t on vibrate or silent and opted to send a message to their group chat.

_I’m here. Do you want me to wait?_

He didn’t want to loiter in the hallway but carrying the contents over one shoulder was a burden. A resident in the apartment beyond the end of the hallway walked past Mihashi and rounded the corner, their figure left his vision as their footsteps lightened until they stopped altogether. The click of the door signaled that he was alone again.

The subtle vibration of his phone in his jacket pocket alerted him to a phone call. He expected the caller id to say Abe or Yuu, however it was Kuramochi. Up to this point their exchanges had been solely through text messages. Not much thought was put into the action, but Mihashi promptly declined the call.  

_Sorry. I’m at the store. Can I call you back later?_

Mihashi winced. The ounce of guilt weighed heavily in his chest. At least with text messaging he could carefully plan what his next words.

_Yeah, no problem. Call me back when you’re free?_

When Mihashi gathered up the courage to send a picture of himself the first response wrenched out of Kuramochi was _Def even_ , followed by _you’re cute_. Mihashi had trouble wrapping around his thoughts on the compliments. Would this be considered flirting? He almost snapped a screenshot to forward to Yuu, but maybe for once it would be better to go through the motions at his own pace.

They exchanged texts more frequently since the occasion. Nothing overtly flirtatious or remotely indicative of Mihashi’s desire to date Kuramochi. They spoke more about baseball since it was a touchstone they were both passionate about. They dabbled in conversing about their favourite foods to sharing funny quips, images, and gifs of adorable puppies.

_You’re so early. I won’t be out of class until noon. Okay how about you drop by my lecture hall? I’ll send you the directions soon. Text me when you’re nearby and I’ll hand you the keys._

_We’re gonna be late. No thanks to Yuuichicou. There’s a hole in the air mattress because someone decided to run around with scissors so we’re gonna pick up another one before heading there._

_Yeah that’s fine. Mihashi the Science building has a lot of window panes - right side from the Arts and Admin. Once inside go downstairs from the staircase in the center of the Meeting Place. Don’t go to staircase on right or left because it leads to the labs. The hallways there are a mess so best avoid them. From the stairs take left, right, then right again (in the second hallway) lecture hall C131._

Mihashi didn’t want to admit it. It was easy enough to find the Science building. The looming and industrial design was out of place in comparison to the older architecture. Navigating the place however was a different story and ultimately difficult. Mihashi couldn’t pinpoint where the Meeting Place was as he stared closely at the floor layout at the entrance of the science wing. He must have gawked at the sign a minute too long with his neck craned to observe the legend’s icons like a baby bird since a curious voice asked, “Are you lost?”

“I’m trying to find lecture hall C131?” Mihashi stated. He readjusted the strap of his backpack by shrugging his shoulder since he carried the canvas bag on the same arm. They were getting tired and his posture must have showed how uncomfortable he was since the man with amber eyes piped up with an exuberant reply, “I can show you!” Those amber eyes darted from Mihashi’s slinged arm to the second bag.

“Do you need any help? I can hold that for you.”

Mihashi rapidly nodded. He handed over the canvas bag and followed the student through the crowd.

“A little late in the semester to be finding a classroom. I’m guessing you’re meeting someone?”

“Yes! A friend. Thanks for the help.”

He chuckled. “It really isn’t a problem. I have loads of time to kill before my next class.”

The hallways were well lit, the concrete walls were bare except for a yellow striped line painted along the lower half. They passed an ornate glass and wooden case that housed multiple newspaper clippings of alumni or professors mentioned in articles. Some polished awards were proudly displayed at the forefront.

They entered a different section of the wing denoted by the heavy metal doors that separated the areas. “It’s just down this hall, the second room on the right.” They held the door open for Mihashi. A blindingly bright smile involuntarily made the honey-haired man return the gesture.

“Thank you! You’re so kind! I can take my bag from here.”

“It really wasn’t a problem,” the man said as he handed the canvas bag back to Mihashi. Their hands brushed in the exchange.

“No, really I would have been wandering for awhile!”

A door swung open, accompanied by the subtle taps of footsteps. “Took you long enough.” Both people reacted to the voice. Mihashi recognized the deep cadence. “Abe I’m sorry for the wait. I’ll take the keys so you can get back to class.”

Abe draped a red lanyard with the school’s insignia over Mihashi’s head. His glance paused over the second bag over Mihashi’s shoulder.

“On second thought I think I’ll just go back to the apartment with you. The weight must be a burden on your good shoulder. Ah, Sawamura - I’m guessing you gave him directions?" 

Sawamura nodded. “I can help him instead. You’re in the middle of lecture, right? Just leave it to me.”

Abe’s hands were raised in the air while he backed up. “Thanks man and send my regards to Miyuki.” 

Sawamura stepped closer. He took the bag again snaked his arm to link his with Mihashi’s. The sudden familiarity was strange, but if Abe was his acquaintance then his trust wouldn’t be misplaced. It didn’t hurt that Sawamura’s bubbly personality reminded him of Yuu, although maybe more so akin to a puppy.


End file.
